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Post by Samba on Dec 19, 2016 13:36:15 GMT
BEHOLD THE HORRORS. ● ● ● ● THEY LURK BENEATH. THE SHADOWS OF REMORSE. YOU WOULDN'T KNOW OF COURSE. BUT I FORCE. A NEW JUDGMENT DAY. Traveling through the vast darkness of space in a spaceship given by one Dr. Breech Aris, one dark-furred Zoanthrope by the name of Samba had a lot of things running through his mind at the moment. More of those had to deal with what happened back at the planet called Konats, by now merely a speck of dust, nay perhaps a faraway star in the darkness all around him, but one thing, in particular, set it apart from everything he had done thus far, but he was trying his best to not focus on it too much, less it was liable to break his already shaken psyche. Grumbling under his breath, the Zoan reached for one of the 'exotic butter' that that strange red-haired Android gave him and harshly bit into its creamy surface, chewing feverishly as he thought of what happened. Back there, he was so sure that he was in the right, that Dr. Breech was planning something nefarious towards the people of Konats, the Konatsians, but he could clearly feel the planet’s inhabitants energy signature, which meant they were still alive and not robotized or any such nonsense, another thing was that they didn’t seem oppressed at all, in fact he’d go as far as to say that they seemed… content, or at least peaceful judging by the relief on their faces and the burden that seemed to no longer oppress their shoulders. Was it all an act, perhaps? An elaborate ruse made by the Doctor to confuse him and lead him into a false sense of insecurity, befuddle his mind so that he wouldn’t know otherwise? The Zoan wasn’t sure, what he was sure of, however, was that their fearful and anxious expression weren’t faked when they looked at him battling against the Doctor and that Bio-Android by the name of Zyajin or whatever. The red-haired Android didn’t really have done much in the battle besides having hidden and then unleashed an ultrasonic screech to destabilize his attack towards the Bio-Android and consequently given him a massive fucking headache the likes of which he had only felt when he thought of the great idea to overindulge in some alcohol years ago. Oh well, live and learn, and all that rot. Trying to reach a comfortable position as his butt started to fall asleep, not to mention the feeling of ants crawling across his legs was starting to unnerve him a little, the Zoan tried to calm his mind and think of other things that wouldn’t make him doubt himself, his resolve, and what he was fighting for. Nevermind that for some weeks now, fuck perhaps months he was slowly starting to lose focus on a purpose to follow. After the Galactic Patrol disbanded with Beryl Roarke (the name send an odd pang through Samba’s chest) suddenly disappearing from the face of the Earth, and the other members of the Galactic Patrol disbanded across the four corners of the globe not moments later, it left the Wolf Zoan with something akin to a hole in his heart. After all, even though he might not be as primitive as his more feral counterpart, a wolf was still nothing without a pack to call its own, the experience of that void left behind reminded him too much of what happened when the Saiyans invaded his home; killing everyone there for their own sick amusement before they left to cause chaos and mayhem elsewhere. Sighing harshly through his nose, Samba dragged a clammy furred hand down his face before rubbing his closed eyelids, feeling a headache slowly pounding at the back of his mind, getting worse and worse as time progressed. “Beryl… where are you?” Breaking the silence that encompassed the small ship he was in, green eyes looked at the window that gave him a view of the outside world, his gaze almost glazed as if he was far away for a few moments. After Beryl left, the Zoan had tried to reach the man when the ability to use Telepathy was bestowed upon him, but every single time, like clockwork, the only thing he ever got feedback on was merely static and nothing else. It didn’t matter what time of the day he tried to reach for that familiar and very powerful energy signature, it didn’t change anything at all except for the way that the static seemed to shift or crack, the odd phenomenon only making Samba’s worry for the dark-skinned man deepen as the weeks turning to months and months turned into almost a year. Silence encroached the space-pod once again, only broken by the steady breathing of the Zoan that occupied its walls. Slowly, the wolfman closed his eyes, his mind clearing ever so slowly as he once again, even though he knew it was probably futile, extended his psyche through the darkened skies, throughout the cosmos and other planets, seeking that familiar presence once again. “Beryl? Can you hear me? It’s me, Samba…”
BATTLE SUMMARY: Write here. |
Beryl Roarke Power Level: 164,142 PL Multiplier: x16 = 2,626,272 Ki Points: Samba 3/3 MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0
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Post by Beryl Roarke on Dec 19, 2016 15:57:49 GMT
It was noon on Earth. Beryl’s royal-class ship was stationed in South Earth, a mile or so away from South Capitol. With his recovery, the Galactic Patrol becoming active once more and the establishment of his very own martial arts school, Beryl had been very busy lately. After finishing screening some potential candidates for the Galactic Patrol, Beryl went back to his bedroom on his ship, threw himself onto his bed and promptly took a nap. He was about thirty minutes into his nap until he heard a growly, bass-toned voice echo through his mind. Beryl’s dark-colored eyes snapped open, wide and unblinking. He shot up into a seated position, eyes darting about the room. Where was that voice coming from? There was nobody in the ship besides him; he was sure for it! Beryl rested a hand on his forehead; was he hallucinating or something? Surely, Samba, of all people, wasn’t actually speaking to him without actually being present, right? Beryl wasn’t sure what to do. There was silence on his end for a couple of moments as he tried to gather his thoughts. Finally, Beryl spoke out loud, loud enough for anyone else nearby and Samba to hear. “Yes, it’s me. Who is this?” Beryl said. He wasn’t too keen on people poking around in his head without his permission, not to mention that the fact that people were able to communicate telepathically both amazed and frightened him, that is if this even WAS Samba truly speaking to him. “Who is this?” he asked again, not waiting for an initial answer for very long. “Where are you, and what are you doing to me?” Beryl clenched his bed sheets tightly as he continued to scan the bedroom, trying to find any sort of indication that someone was around. It was times like these where he really wished he was able to sense and detect ki. “If this is some kind of trick or prank, it’s not funny.” Samba
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Post by Samba on Dec 19, 2016 16:08:38 GMT
BEHOLD THE HORRORS. ● ● ● ● THEY LURK BENEATH. THE SHADOWS OF REMORSE. YOU WOULDN'T KNOW OF COURSE. BUT I FORCE. A NEW JUDGMENT DAY. If Samba has been well of mind and body, he’d have probably realized sooner that the sharp static he normally received wasn’t there anymore, but he couldn’t focus much of that after having his mental state challenged within an inch of its life back at Konats. So, it was really easy to interpret his reaction when he heard that deep-toned voice reply back to him, the Zoan easily recognizing the voice as that of Beryl’s even after all these months. That said, the Zoanthrope almost choked on the last bit of the exotic butter stick he was munching on. Gulping quickly and cleaning his mouth, the Zoan's expression turned to one of sheer astonishment as he replayed that voice in his head. “B-Beryl?” Samba said the man’s name again, sitting up straight and not slouching anymore, his voice shaky and unsure if this was actually happening or if he fell asleep into a coma when he boarded the spaceship hours ago. “Is it really you, Beryl?” He asked again, not really giving Beryl that much of a time to reply besides a quick yes or no before his mouth started to form words. Words at a really quick pace. “Oh my God, Beryl, I missed you so damn much, why haven’t you called, how are you even alive, I thought you were fucking dead, you fucking buttmuncher!” The words just poured out, almost like a diarrhea of the mouth and there was no stopping this deluge, no siree, not when Samba had months of pent-up frustration and concern really to blow over. “It’s me, Samba! I’m one— was one of the members of the Galactic Patrol, if you need proof I remember bear-hugging you so you wouldn’t punch me into orbit.” The memory sparked a time where everything was better, where he had his friends before they went their separate ways. “Beryl… what happened? How… where are you?” The Zoan’s voice quieted considerably from its normal loud and excited tone it usually held in the presence of friends, it was very clear that Samba wanted some answers, but he was afraid to know the cause of Beryl’s disappearance. But as everyone knows, humanity’s curiosity will always come to the forefront, so he waited with bated breath for Beryl’s reply or anything he might wish to say. Hell, even one of his roasts, hilarious insults he normally used when he was anxious, nervous, or triggered, as once Belle said when they were alone and training in the gravity chamber, would be a very welcome affair than just silence. He had heard enough silence for almost a year to last him a lifetime.
BATTLE SUMMARY: Write here. |
Beryl Roarke Power Level: 164,142 PL Multiplier: x16 = 2,626,272 Ki Points: Samba 3/3 MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0
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Post by Beryl Roarke on Dec 19, 2016 16:10:08 GMT
“Yes, it’s--,” Beryl couldn’t even finish his response before Samba mentally assaulted him with sheer, raw frustration, joy, angst and everything in between. The Galactic Patrol leader fell out of his bed, startled by the voice in his head’s sudden increase in volume. He landed face-first on the carpeted floor with a hard thud and continued to lie there as Samba continued to go off on him. Beryl was still recovering from his year-long fight with a galactic army; he was still wrapped in bandages, on pain medications and advised to take plenty of time to rest so that his body could heal. Face-planting from his bed wasn’t something he’d be able to bounce back from immediately like he normally would, considering what shitty shape he was in. For whatever reason, Samba felt it necessary to remind Beryl who he was as if he had forgotten, and the way that Samba chose to jog Beryl’s memory made Beryl groan under his breath. “I remember who you are vividly, Samba; you don’t have to remind me, especially the time you nearly snapped my back into pieces. That is if you even are Samba, and I’m not just talking to myself,” Beryl replied, grumbling in pain as he pushed himself up into a standing position. He glanced about his neat bedroom and rubbed his forehead. “And to answer your question, whoever this is, I had business to take care of,” Beryl said, not wanting to delve into too many details. It was particularly sensitive information what he had been doing over the past year, and he didn’t want to tell just anybody what had occurred. There were still plenty of people who despised the Galactic Patrol and worked against them; whoever set up this telepathic link could easily be someone impersonating Samba, a previous Galactic Patrolman, in an attempt to get intel from Beryl. Needless to say, Beryl wasn’t taking any chances. “As to where I am, I am in my ship right now -- in my bedroom, to be precise. I was taking a nap but--” He paused. “I can’t believe I’m actually thinking I’m talking to someone in my head. I really do need to set up an appointment with a psychiatrist.” A tired sigh left Beryl’s lips. “You still haven’t told me where you are,” Beryl said out loud. Samba
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Post by Samba on Dec 19, 2016 17:09:49 GMT
BEHOLD THE HORRORS. ● ● ● ● THEY LURK BENEATH. THE SHADOWS OF REMORSE. YOU WOULDN'T KNOW OF COURSE. BUT I FORCE. A NEW JUDGMENT DAY. The only reason Samba’s tail wasn’t wagging was because it was firmly stuck between his ass and the seat he was on, otherwise, it’d have probably shook so hard the sound barrier would have said goodbye by now. Beryl remembers him! The Zoan was still apprehensive about the man’s sudden disappearance but with those words, the nervousness steaming inside of his lessened slightly, enough so his tone held a bit of joy to it. “It’s great that you remember me!” He couldn’t help but say, only for his ears to lean back, almost disappeared across the furry mane on his head when Beryl’s tone suddenly shifted to what he perceived as cold and to the point, then again he was probably imagining it, he was mentally and physically exhausted after that fiasco so it wasn’t far-fetched to say that he just imagined that. “Beryl… I am real, I’m Samba, why would you think I’m someone else?” In hindsight, Beryl was within the right to doubt him, he knew that much but it still didn’t help the sting that he felt at having his previous boss doubting him so like he was a common stranger. “Beryl… what do I have to do or say for you to believe me? Say it, anything and I’ll do it.” But first, he should better reply to that question the dark-skinned, beanie loving man just asked him. “But to answer your question, I’m currently in the middle of buttfuck nowhere space, I’m on a course towards Earth after leaving Konats.” There, hopefully, the answer would mollify the man a little so he won’t act so standoffish with him, he could only hope.
BATTLE SUMMARY: Write here. |
Beryl Roarke Power Level: 164,142 PL Multiplier: x16 = 2,626,272 Ki Points: Samba 3/3 MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0
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Post by Beryl Roarke on Dec 19, 2016 18:37:58 GMT
Beryl figured that the voice would insist he or she or it was Samba; why else would he or she or it or whatever the thing talking was admit that they were trying to deceive him? Nonetheless, Beryl continued to listen to “Samba” or whoever it was; then, Samba asked what he could do in order to prove that it was really him. Now, if there was anything that Beryl knew about Samba was that Samba would literally do anything to win his approval. If there was one of the various things that Beryl admired about Samba, it was his fierce yet morally sound loyalty. Perhaps it was a Zoan thing; it seemed to be the case at least. Luckily for Samba, he made sure to answer Beryl’s question about his whereabouts. Beryl arched a brow when Samba mentioned that he was on Konats. Konats of all places? The most Beryl knew about Konats was that it was a desert-like planet located on the fringes of the galaxy; it wasn’t a place that many people visited unless they had explicit business or if they were from there. It was a place of mages, wizards and shady figures, and it wasn’t the safest of places to be. “You were on Konats?” Beryl repeated, his skepticism evident. “I’m not sure why you were there of all places, but I suppose you have your reasonings.” He figured he could ask Samba about specific details later. “If you want to prove to me that this is really you, then come visit me whenever you arrive back on Earth. My ship’s stationed near South Capitol, only about a mile or so away from it. Considering the shape I’m in, I’m not going to be moving much anytime soon. You should have no problem finding me since I do not know how to suppress my ki.” Beryl was already easy to spot due to his physical appearance in contrast to other Earth dwellers; his power only made him that much easier to find, especially since he was literally one of the strongest humans in the current universe. “When you come here, I’ll tell you everything. However, if you are not Samba, and you seek to harm me, I will deal with you personally. Do I make myself clear?” Beryl’s voice remained the same: cool, calm and collected, but the weight of his statement would hit Samba like an hundred ton weight. Beryl was not playing around. Samba
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Post by Samba on Dec 19, 2016 20:37:42 GMT
BEHOLD THE HORRORS. ● ● ● ● THEY LURK BENEATH. THE SHADOWS OF REMORSE. YOU WOULDN'T KNOW OF COURSE. BUT I FORCE. A NEW JUDGMENT DAY. Samba perked up slightly, only to quickly deflate when Beryl’s voice still held a heavy dose of skepticism in it. “Yeah, I was on Konats,” He repeated his early statement, almost ready to go and voice out everything that happened in that thrice damned rock in the middle of nowhere space, but Beryl’s next words made him shut his trap. He held back from whimpering like a petulant pup, but only barely. Tentatively he continued where he left off, merely because he really wanted to tell someone about this and not stew over it any longer. “I headed there because I heard that Arias was involved there somehow, and she died there too by the hands of Walker, a talking and walking tree Bio-Android, he’s really powerful, perhaps stronger than you, Beryl,” Samba said, looking down for a second and playing with the fraying threads of his pants almost absently as he tried to words his thoughts properly. “Apparently, Articho was also involved there, if memory serves me right he was a previous Galactic Patrol member? In any case, I heard that both Arias and him died on Konats because they pissed off Walker, the previous talking and walking tree Bio-Android I talked about, I don’t really know the full extent of what happened, but I know that Articho apparently threatened the life of Walker’s friend or something so he acted accordingly.” Samba shrugged his shoulders to an unseen audience, still playing with the loosened thread with a single-minded focus it was almost incredible. “And I know that, the Ki thing I mean, you told me that you were unable to do so when we sparred to know if I had what it took to enter the Galactic Patrol’s ranks, heh, I remember being really fucking hungry once it was over and asking you if you had a horse or two stashed somewhere in your fridge, you looked at me like I just started talking in some sort of demonic ass voice, heh.” The Zoan snickered to himself, the mirth he was feeling echoing in the spaceship he was trapped in for the better part of his travels towards Earth’s direction. The good mood was broken by Beryl’s next words, however, and the Zoan’s tone changed to one of seriousness to reflect that. “I know, I’ve seen what you’re capable of, after all even though you were well within your right to kill Arias after the shit she has done, instead you chose to confine her to planetary arrest, it would have worked and saved us all the trouble if she just decided to stay here and rot until she was nothing but skin and bones.” The Zoan growled, still smarting over the fact that Arias had done so much shit to so many people and no one stopped her until it was too late. At least she was finally and truly well fucking dead, good riddance. “Don’t underestimate me, though,” Samba said suddenly, a teasing drawling tone in his voice. “I’ve become a LOT stronger than I was before, perhaps this time I’ll be able to give you a challenge, haha!”
BATTLE SUMMARY: Write here. |
Beryl Roarke Power Level: 164,142 PL Multiplier: x16 = 2,626,272 Ki Points: Samba 3/3 MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0
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Post by Beryl Roarke on Dec 19, 2016 23:18:58 GMT
Samba explained why he was on Konats of all places, mentioning that two people, Arias and Articho, were both killed by Walker, a Bio-Android that was supposedly a walking, talking tree. It all sounded incredibly bizarre, but considering how much crazy shit was in the universe, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility at all. “So, he’s even stronger than me? I can believe it, especially considering if he is a bio-android. Bio-androids are specifically designed to be able to progress at an accelerated rate; it’s part of the genetic make-up from what I’ve researched,” Beryl commented. “However, if this so-called ‘Walker’ doesn’t have good, morally sound intentions, I suppose it’s only safe for me to be prepared for anything he might be planning.” He crossed his arms. “Still, both Arias and Articho were killed by him? That’s--” Then, Beryl’s eyes widened tremendously. A revelation had hit him. “Wait. I’ve MET Walker a long time ago! Back from when he--” Beryl stopped mid-sentence and fell silent for a few seconds, cueing Samba to continue speaking. Beryl frowned slightly once Samba pointed out his inability to manipulate ki; being unable to produce ki externally or manipulate it to fly, sense and what not was something that still irked Beryl to this day. He tried not to let it show though. “I would be genuinely surprised if you hadn’t become a lot stronger; you are extremely serious about your training,” Beryl said, still speaking out loud. “You won’t have to worry about me underestimating or going easy on you.” In other words, Beryl wasn’t averse to punching Samba into orbit, especially if this voice turned out to be an imposter. “If you want to challenge me when you show up, that’s fine,” Beryl answered, not mentioning the fact that he was still wrapped in bandages and covered in band-aids. Even if he was still nursing his injuries, he could still fight and fight well. “It’ll be on your terms … that is if you’re actually Samba and not someone else or just a hallucination …” Samba
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Post by Samba on Dec 19, 2016 23:33:42 GMT
BEHOLD THE HORRORS. ● ● ● ● THEY LURK BENEATH. THE SHADOWS OF REMORSE. YOU WOULDN'T KNOW OF COURSE. BUT I FORCE. A NEW JUDGMENT DAY. “I haven’t really learned much about Bio-Androids besides that they’re made to be some sort of amalgamation of the DNA of other races mixed into what they believe as the ‘perfect’ being,” Samba gave Beryl his own input while being internally thankful for the dark-skinned man’s own valuable information about those Biogenetically made Warriors. “And uh… he sounds a bit unstable, I’d say? There was one time where we sparred and then after a while he mentioned someone called Reikiko or whatever having gone to Planet Vegeta to attack it or something, and he was kinda… really scary and frightening as he mentioned that part like he was really pissed off about it since I think Reikiko was his friend or something? This Reikiko person was quickly blocked, and then killed, thanks to Zucceta and the Kami of Earth, Bing but back then Bing was a Cyborg of some sorts under Zucceta’s rule,” The Zoan was silent for a second before snorting. “For fuck’s sake, no matter how many times I hear it, it’s almost too hard to believe it, but then I remember about that enormous energy signature that I felt on Earth from a really far away distance, Walker told me those two were Zucceta and Bing’s energy signature sparkling and fighting against each other, and then I’m reminded that the Universe is really vast, and a closed mindset will just get you killed.”Once again, silence extended across the ship as Samba absorbed Beryl’s voice, a small smile growing across his muzzle at the man’s off-hand praise upon his behavior about training. He still remembered the times when he hogged the damn Gravity Chamber all to himself and not letting Beryl use it. But then the merriment was broken by Beryl’s second statement about not believing he was the real thing once more, he barely held from growling in frustration, the sound almost choking into a broken laugh as perhaps hearing that growl would spark some sort of memory inside the male’s thick skull. “I will make you believe that I am actually Samba now or once I am back on Earth, so help me whatever Deity reigns across the Universe that I will! If it means having to watch you train in the Gravity Chamber again just so you’d see for yourself that I am Samba, then so be it!” Challenge accepted, if Beryl was still adamant on him being an impostor or just a hallucination produced by the man’s mind, then he’d make sure to set things straight.
BATTLE SUMMARY: Write here. |
Beryl Roarke Power Level: 164,142 PL Multiplier: x16 = 2,626,272 Ki Points: Samba 3/3 MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0
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Post by Beryl Roarke on Dec 20, 2016 0:04:02 GMT
The story Samba was telling sounded like some kind of crazy fan-fiction, but it was all possible considering how insane and backwards the universe could be. After Samba finished with the explanation, Beryl scratched his cheek. “You seemed to have met a lot of new people,” Beryl commented. “I did hear about the fight on Kanassa. It’s a shame that I wasn’t able to go there to give my support.” He was going to make sure nothing like that happened again, at least without him trying to stop it. Samba’s frustration finally bled through in the form of an irritated growl. Beryl sighed and resisted the urge to roll his eyes; he could see why Samba was getting pissed, if this even was Samba. Then again, the wolf would be wise to look at the current situation he was in. Here he was intruding the mind of someone who had just been in constant combat for nearly a year against a galactic army and now he was expecting to convince said person who had never been in a telepathic conversation before that he was some long lost friend. However, in Samba’s defense, the poor Zoan thought that his very good friend (and crush) was dead, so Beryl couldn’t fault him for his excitement and vexation. Still, Samba was dead set on proving that he was the real deal, even if it meant pressing his face against the window while Beryl gravity trained or following Beryl around everywhere he went or flashing that wide, white-fanged smile of his. “Alright then, Samba. You can do whatever it is to prove this is really you. Like I told you before, when you get on Earth, you can come visit me in Southern Earth,” Beryl reassured, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “However, right now, I have business to take care of so I’m going to have to cut this conversation short. I won’t be going anywhere, so whenever you land on Earth, you can come straight here; you can run on all fours even. Anyways, I’ll speak to you soon, Samba, if this really is Samba anyways.” [EXIT] Samba
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Post by Samba on Dec 20, 2016 0:21:34 GMT
BEHOLD THE HORRORS. ● ● ● ● THEY LURK BENEATH. THE SHADOWS OF REMORSE. YOU WOULDN'T KNOW OF COURSE. BUT I FORCE. A NEW JUDGMENT DAY. The Zoan smiled at Beryl’s acknowledgement, he HAD met a lot of new people, but not of them clicked as soundly as the Galactic Patrol did, then again when you’ve been living and training with a group of people for almost six months or so, a bond of sorts it's bound to form eventually, one that it is not easily replaced or erased. “Don’t let that drag you down, Beryl,” The Zoan said, trying to reassure the Leader of the Galactic Patrol, the man probably had enough on his plate back then, what’s with having the notion of defending the whole Galaxy resting on his shoulders, and who knew whatever else that happened before then when that almighty Battle of Demi-Gods happened. “Next time, we’ll be prepared for the trials ahead,” He made sure to put extra emphasis on ‘We’, there was no way that he’d let Beryl disappear off doing God knows what again into some remote corner of the Universe. No siree, not this time. He’d clench like a damn barnacle onto Beryl if that’s what it took to let the man realize that he wasn’t fighting this battle alone against the Universe. Samba withheld from pointing out the fact that Beryl sounded increasingly frustrated and or annoyed with the current conversation, or at least with the fact that he, Samba, kept being annoyed when the male constantly pointed out the fact that he could be some sort of fraud or a hallucination of some kind. … Then again, he wondered what Beryl must have really think about him if the first thing he hallucinates is about him speaking in his head. Against himself, the silly thought made his tail wag before he stopped it, now it wasn’t the time to act like a lovesick schoolgirl, or whatever. “Alrighty then, Beryl. I’ll leave you to your own thoughts now…” Trailing off, the Zoan blushed as a random thought crossed his mind. “It was… nice talking to you again. I really missed you, all of the other members, actually, but especially you.” He winced at what he said, but it was already out there, no way to take it back. “Um. Well I already poached enough of your time, so I’ll see you once I enter the Earth’s atmosphere, till then,” With that fast goodbye, the telepathic connection was quickly broken before Beryl could get a word it, it was probably for the best, the Zoan thought bitterly to himself. “Great, make a fool of yourself, why don’t you? Why not tell him about the massive crush you have on him while you’re at it.” Grumbling under his breath, the Zoan closed his eyes and tried to calm himself, there was still hours before he reached Earth, and letting the hours pass by as he mulled over these thoughts would just make him cranky and doubt himself — once again, something that he had done enough at it was, no need to do it again. “I’m almost there, Beryl,” Samba muttered, the corner of his jaw ticking upward into the ghost of a smile. “Please, wait for me, I’m almost there.” He wondered how their meeting would pan out once his dark furred feet touched Earthling soil, would the man still view him as an outsider, a fraud wearing Samba's skin, or would he just take one look at him and immediately realize that he was the real deal? The Zoan didn't know what he would do if he still looked like a complete stranger on Beryl's eyes, but as his Father once told him, warriors can speak more fluently with their fists rather than their words, so perhaps another spar with the man would make him see that he was looking at the real him, and not some bootleg copy passing as him. Shaking those thoughts away, the Zoan leaned back against the seat of the spaceship and let Morpheus embrace send him into a deep sleep, his mind filled with the trials ahead, but more importantly, the face of one Beryl Roarke, best friend, crush, and leader of the Galactic Patrol.
Thread exit. PL please.
BATTLE SUMMARY: Write here. |
Beryl Roarke Power Level: 164,142 PL Multiplier: x16 = 2,626,272 Ki Points: Samba 3/3 MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0
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Post by Pieter Wolfbane on Dec 21, 2016 7:41:31 GMT
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